Chapter 199

Chapter 199: Chapter 199

Lysander’s pov

The roaring storm battered my face, freezing raindrops cutting into my bare skin like tiny glass shards. My linen tunic was completely drenched, clinging cold and sodden against my frame, but the chill of the night could not compare to the icy, suffocating cage locked inside my skull.

I couldn’t feel my fingers. I couldn’t blink away the water streaming down my cheeks. My legs kept moving with unnatural, rhythmic precision, each forced step bringing me farther down the muddy slope and deeper into the dark pine forest.

Gideon walked beside me, his right hand hovering near my shoulder. The pale-blue light around his fingers thrummed steadily, maintaining the thin, unbreakable wires that controlled every muscle in my body. Behind us, Julian kept a paranoid, frantic pace, his dark cloak whipping in the gale.

Then, a sound tore through the thunder, cutting straight through the howling wind and shattering the quiet dark.

"Lysander!"

The voice hit my marrow like a lightning bolt.

Drake.

Deep inside my trapped mind, my soul gave a violent, agonizing thrash against the spell-craft. The pureblood bond in my chest suddenly flared white-hot, pulsing in frantic, desperate rhythm with his call.

Drake! I screamed internally, my spirit clawing frantically at the back of my own eyes, fighting with every thread of my blood to break the invisible chains. Drake, I’m right here! Help me! Please help me!

Not a sound escaped my throat. My lips remained clamped shut, my jaw set in a smooth, expressionless mask. My forced legs didn’t falter or stumble. Step by step, my body kept walking away from the boundary line, carrying me down the dark path while my soul wept in agony.

"Stop right there!" Drake’s voice roared again, closer this time, carrying an ancient, terrifying rage that made the surrounding trees shudder.

Through the rain streaming down my unblinking eyes, I could see the tall, broad silhouette of Drake’s bursting through the forest line at the top of the ridge.

His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, his linen shirt soaked through, his crimson eyes burning like twin fires in the storm. He didn’t have his heavy coat. He didn’t have a weapon. He stood tall against the tempest, his pureblood aura flaring outward in a wide, lethal wave that flattened the wet grass around his boots.

Turn around! I roared at my body, trying to force my neck to twist, trying to throw my weight backward onto the mud so I could fall at his feet. Turn around and look at him!

My frame refused to obey. Gideon’s mind compulsion held my spinal cord in an iron vise. I stepped over a fallen tree root, moving smoothly alongside Gideon, heading toward the waiting black carriage parked in the shadow of the valley rocks.

"Lysander! Come back!" Drake shouted, his voice cracking with a sudden, raw edge of desperate pain that tore my heart to shreds.

He was standing at the boundary line, just twenty yards behind us. He was looking straight at my back, reaching out a hand into the rain, calling to me not as commanding a prisoner, but as a mate begging his lover to return.

He didn’t know about the spell. From where he stood in the dark, watching through the thick curtain of rain, all he could see was me walking away alongside Gideon and Julian. He saw me leaving the estate grounds without a mark, without a struggle, and without a single word of defense.

No, Drake, no! I wept inside the dark prison of my skull, fresh tears mixing with the rainwater dragging down my cheeks. I didn’t choose this! I didn’t want to leave! He’s controlling me! Look at my eyes! Please, look at my mind!

I tried to push a single image across the bond—a flash of Gideon’s glowing hand, a memory of the mind-spike hitting my forehead, anything to show him the truth. But the pale-blue spell-craft acted like an impenetrable wall, blocking my thoughts from reaching the connection. All that could pass through the bond was the cold, shivering echo of my forced movement.

Julian turned toward the ridge, his face pale with horror as he saw Drake standing on the slope. "Get him into the carriage, Gideon! Now! Move!"

Gideon tightened his grip, the pale-blue light flaring brighter around his knuckles. "Walk faster, Lysander," he commanded smoothly into my brain.

My forced pace doubled. My bare feet churned through the deep, cold mud of the forest floor, driving me toward the open door of the carriage.

"Lysander!" Drake’s voice echoed one last time, sounding so small, so hollow, and so utterly broken against the roaring thunder.

I heard the heavy, desperate thud of his boots taking two steps down the slope to pursue us, but Julian raised his hand, unleashing a sudden burst of silver-tinted barrier magic across the narrow mountain path to delay him.

My forced hands reached out, gripping the cold iron frame of the carriage door. My legs lifted me onto the wooden step, and I stepped into the dark, enclosed cabin. Gideon slipped in right behind me, pulling the door shut with a loud, absolute thunk that cut off the sound of the storm.

The carriage lurched forward instantly, the horses rearing back before sprinting into a hard, desperate gallop down the valley road.

I was forced to sit upright on the leather bench, my hands resting neatly on my lap, my frame motionless as the carriage bounced violently over the rough stone tracks. Through the small glass window set in the back panel of the carriage, I could see the fading shape of the mountain estate receding into the dark mist.

And standing on the high ridge, outlined against the grey flash of lightning, was Drake.

He stood completely still in the pouring rain, his dark hair soaked, his head lowered as he watched the carriage carry me away into the night.

I love you, I whispered in the quiet, silent horror of my mind, watching the silhouette of my mate vanish into the dark storm. I love you, Drake... please don’t believe I left you.

Gideon leaned back against the cushions across from me, letting out a long, slow breath as the pale-blue light around his fingers slowly dimmed to a faint glow. He looked at my unblinking, tear-streaked face with cold, satisfied triumph.

"It is over, slut," Gideon murmured softly. "You are beyond his reach now."

The dark spell remained locked over my brain, binding my vocal cords and pinning my limbs, leaving me trapped in absolute, agonizing silence as the carriage carried me far away from my home.